Her grandfather had always boasted about Flossy’s excellent judge of character, stating it had come from being originally owned by ablasted traitorwho’d apparently been involved in a plot to assassinate the King George IV. The clergyman’s declaration had come after imbibing a little too much brandy one Christmas Eve, and it had been the source of endless speculation and not a little frustration between the cousins since once he’d sobered up the following day, he’d refused to breathe another word on the subject – as had everyone else involved.
But still, from the little she knew, the fact that the little dog was now curled up on Monsieur Augustin’s lap snoring happily was a good indication that the King’s man wastrulythe King’s man and not a blackguard intent on purposely ruining her father’s good name.
Concealed as she was by the door, Henrietta found herself deliberately studying the Frenchman’s features for the very first time. After a few seconds, she drew in a shallow breath. How had she never noticed how handsome he was? His face was tanned, causing her to wonder if he’d spent much time in warmer climes. High cheekbones and a chiselled jaw gave a clear indication of his aristocratic heritage, and even from here, she could tell that his eyes were the blue of a summer sky. A head of dark chestnuthair tied carelessly back in a queue in defiance of current fashion completed the picture. Though well dressed, he was evidently no slave to style.
Abruptly his eyes swivelled towards her hiding place, and though she was almost certain he couldn’t see her, she found herself colouring up. What the devil was wrong with her? Handsome he might be, but she was under no illusions concerning his potential ruthlessness should he deem it necessary.
As his eyes drifted elsewhere, she took another, much deeper breath and stepped past the open door into the hotel lobby. As she approached, his head quickly swivelled back towards her, but Flossy, the little wretch, didn’t even bat an eyelid. If anything, her snoring got louder.
‘Thank you for your assistance,’ she stammered, adding an uncertain, ‘Monsieur,’ to her sentence. To her surprise his mouth quirked.
‘We are in England,MissShackleford so feel free to speak the language of your countrymen - though as you undoubtedly noticed earlier, I often forget where I am.’ He bent his head in acknowledgement of her effort, but the amusement in his eyes remained and her previous colour was nothing to the fiery red of her face now.
He waved towards the vacant chair on the opposite side of the small table in front of him. ‘Please take a seat. I have taken the liberty of ordering some tea.’
After a slight hesitation, Henrietta sat down, smoothing her borrowed clothes self-consciously.
‘It’s not often that Flossy lets her guard down so quickly,’ she murmured after a moment, waving towards the comatose animal.
He looked down and stroked the silky head. ‘I have always wanted a dog,’ he mused, ‘but alas my lifestyle has never allowed me the indulgence of a canine companion.’
‘I would have thought that a dog would have been of help in the work that you do,’ Henrietta responded carefully. ‘I have read that they can help with all manner of things, from sniffing out dangerous substances to defending one against charlatans and ruffians.’ She sat forward. ‘Take Flossy for example. She has been of tremendous assistance to my grandfather. Indeed, she helped bring Etienne Babin to justice when he would have fled.’
‘Oh? And how did she do that?’ Raphael queried, his voice deceptively mild. Observing his raised eyebrows, Henrietta abruptly realised she may have unintentionally given away too much. Worse, his interested expression told her it was too late to take the words back. With an internal grimace, she gave a small, self-conscious cough and explained.
‘I believe she – Flossy, that is - she… err… well, she took a rather large chunk out of the varmint’s ankle,’ The last was said in a rush before Henri winced, adding hastily, ‘That’s not to say Flossy is vicious you understand. Why, she’s simply the sweetest little dog to people she knows…’Fiend seize it, that didn’t sound right. Henrietta began to colour up again as she struggled to come up with words that didn’t make Flossy sound like a diminutive hellhound - finally, finishing weakly, ‘Grandfather has always said she’s an excellent judge of character. As I mentioned, she certainly appears very taken with you.’
As if on cue, Flossy looked up and gave a soft growl. Fortunately, she followed it with an enthusiastic wag of her tail as she caught sight of the plate of biscuits coming towards them. Henrietta looked gratefully up at the bellboy as he carefully placed the tea tray onto the table. ‘Do you wish me to pour, Miss?’ he asked with a small bow.
Henri nodded, grateful she didn’t have to risk adding her inferior tea-pouring skills to her growing list of faux pas – though why on earth it should matter, she had no idea.
All too quickly, the bellboy retreated, leaving the two of them alone again. Now that the subject of dogs had been exhausted, Henrietta had no idea what to say. Under normal circumstances, she was reasonably well versed in the art of conversation, but really, what did one chat about to a King’s Spy? Earlier, she’d been well on the way to declaring Flossy a vicious killer… The little dog gave a loud snore, plainly unconcerned about her close brush with death.
‘I’m given to understand there is to be a family wedding in the Spring?’ Her companion broke the silence after a few uncomfortable moments.
‘Indeed,’ Henri responded with a smile. ‘We are all very much looking forward to it.’
‘Including her father?’ Raphael asked, the doubt very evident in his voice. Henrietta twisted her hands in her lap, realising she needed to choose her next words carefully. If she proclaimed her uncle delighted, he would no doubt believe she was lying.
She gave a small shrug. ‘I think my cousin would have preferred the wedding take place before Christmas, however my uncle, understandably wishes to ensure that Mr Bernart is in aposition to take care of his daughter and has merely asked that he purchase an appropriate property before the nuptials take place.’ Her answer was honest, as far as it went. In truth, it had been a little more convoluted than that.
Raphael Augustin’s lips twitched again, but this time Henrietta felt an unaccountable urge to slap the smirk off his face. Clearly, he was well aware she was dissembling.
‘Your father is well acquainted with Bernart, non?’ This time his use of French told Henrietta the question was important – he might be a bloody spy, but he wasn’t the only one who could recognise atell.
‘Indeed, they have known one another for many years,’ Henrietta responded with a false smile, ‘as I’m sure my father mentioned to you the last time you spoke to him. He rescued Mr Bernart as a mere boy and took him on – initially as a cabin boy, I believe.’ She paused to take a sip of her tea, then, looking over the rim of her cup, she added, ‘As far as I’m aware, their friendship is one of mutual trust and has developed over many years.’
Finally, putting her cup decisively back onto its saucer, she straightened her shoulders and continued. ‘I thank you for your timely intervention, Mr Augustin, and of course for the tea, however, if it has stopped raining, I will take my leave. My parents will be getting concerned at my continued absence.’
‘You will walk home in your borrowed uniform?’
‘I am certain the hotel will not object to having my own garments sent to the house once I provide my name and address,’ Henrietta retorted, ‘and naturally I would not return the ones I am wearing without them being washed and pressed.’
‘It does not bother you to be seen as working class?’ He had not moved, and neither had the dratted dog. Really, the man was insufferable, not to mention boorish.
‘Why on earth should it?’ she snapped. ‘I think you misunderstand my situation,Monsieur, I might have relatives who are fortunate enough to have a title, but my father is a former naval officer turned trader and my mother the daughter of a country vicar. I have no cause for absurd airs and graces.’
He stared at her impassively for a second before bending his head slightly in acknowledgement of her words ‘Will you be warm enough without your coat?’ was all he said.
